


The Same But Different

by holeygeorge



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holeygeorge/pseuds/holeygeorge
Summary: Another case for the books. Another flight back home. Another dinner with...Mulder? It was the same as always, but different.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own The X-Files.

* * *

Mulder and Scully were out once again.

Were they ever _not_ out on a case in the middle of some small town chasing down what Mulder would deem a mystery and Scully would explain with scientific backing?

There wasn’t much of a difference in this case from their other low-risk ones: Suspect seems to be responsible for Crime and yet the How is Unexplained. And just like with almost any other case they had just caught Suspect and were tying up loose ends at the local police station. As Mulder described the probability of Suspect using light as a means of survival much like a plant Scully went over to pour herself a cup of mediocre coffee, rolling her eyes.

Mulder arrived as she was stirring in a packet of sugar, “Why do I get the sense this is going to be another case where we disagree on what happened?” he asked smiling crookedly.

  
Scully smirked and replied after sipping from the steaming cup, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Mulder. Jolly Green Giants will probably be the next big scientific discovery.”

He laughed lightly, arranging his own coffee, “At least we can get back to the city. I always feel a little too…trapped in these small towns.”

“Really? So no small farm with a little missus in your future?” she quipped.

“As much chance of that as you settling down with Frohike and joining the Lone Gunmen’ crusades,” he replied, “Come on let’s get back to the motel. If we hurry we can get the next flight back home in time for the game,” Mulder placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her out to their car. Scully couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the thought.

* * *

Scully kicked the door to her apartment closed behind her. She resisted the urge to drop her bag and throw herself on the sofa – knowing she would have even less energy to do laundry later.

She sighed as she slipped off her working heels and made her to the washer, dumping everything in one load except for what had to be dry-cleaned. Turning the knob, she entered her bedroom to grab a change of clothes to shower and unbuttoned her top as she went along.

Just as she was about to enter the bathroom the phone started to ring.

“Hello?” Scully picked up.

“Ahh, hey Scully.”

“Mulder?”

“Yeah, how are you?”

“You mean since we last saw each other an hour ago?”

He chuckled, “Has it really been that long?”

She sighed but smiled, “What do you want Mulder? If there’s another case I’m – “

“No, not another case…”

“Okay…then?”

Scully heard him sigh and shift around – she could already imagine him ruffling his hair as he often did when he was embarrassed, “I was wondering if I could come over for dinner?”

“Dinner?” she was confused but also pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, I just got in and realized I have nothing in the fridge besides some milk and butter…And while I’m sure there’s an experiment somewhere in there I don’t really want tonight to be the night I try it out…”

Scully opened her mouth but, as she often did with Mulder, she found herself torn between exasperation and laughter, and unsure how to reply, “Um…yeah come on over. I’m sure I can wrangle something up for the both of us here.”

“Great! I’ll head over soon. Just going to hop in the shower.”

And he hung up. Scully rolled her eyes and went to take her own shower, not sure what to expect from tonight.

* * *

Scully exited her bathroom, towel-drying her hair. She checked on the washing machine to see it had finished its last spin and transferred over the clothes to her dryer. The click of the machine turning on had just sounded when Mulder knocked on her front door.

Opening the front door revealed Mulder holding a brown bag in one arm and a small case of beer in the other.

She raised an eyebrow but moved to the side to let him in, “Should I be expecting more people?”

“Only if you invited people over,” he called back over his shoulder as he made his way over to her kitchen table.

“So this is for us?”

Mulder smiled as he unloaded the bag, “I stopped by a market on my way here. A good house guest never comes empty handed.”

On the table he had laid out a bag of chips, sunflower seeds, a pint of her favorite ice-cream, and a packet of cookies.

“Funny, because half of these seem like things for you,” she smirked.

“Well… a _smart_ house guest knows when they need to bring some of their own snacks so they’re not left eating Tofutti.”

Scully snorted and left him to finish laying out his spread to return the towel to the bathroom and run a comb through her hair.

When she returned she found Mulder on the couch enjoying a beer and a baseball game.

“So the truth comes out,” Scully said on her way to the fridge.

Slightly distracted by the TV Mulder responded, “What’s that?”

“Did you really need dinner or did you just need a good TV to watch the game?” She had some still edible tomatoes. Maybe pasta?

“Scully, you wound me!”

She hummed and opened a cabinet: she did have some angel hair. She returned to the fridge. But what to add to it? Spinach…hot dogs?...Maybe she could re-create a childhood favorite.

Scully began work on dinner, half-listening to Mulder’s mumbled commentary on the game and enjoying a beer. Oil and onions sizzled in a pan while the pasta bubbled in a pot on her small stove. She added in garlic to the onions waiting for them to brown a little before adding the tomatoes. It sounded like Mulder’s team was winning, she smiled at his boyish cheers. Sipping on the beer, she worked the softened tomatoes into a sauce. She added some oregano and thyme to the red mixture and let it simmer. Next, she diced hot dogs to add to the pot of pasta that was half way through boiling.

Tasting the sauce she hummed in approval at the flavor. Draining the pasta was always her least favorite part as the steam always seemed to hit her in the face and her short arms didn’t allow her to avoid the fumes.

“What smells so good over here?”

She jumped.

“Jesus Mulder. I should tie a bell around your neck,” she closed her eyes briefly to calm her heart.

With no hint of remorse he continued, “Oh pasta and hot dogs. Was I a good boy today?”

She bit her tongue to stop an inappropriate response from escaping her. Not that she was worried to offend him. No, she was more worried what it would open. Talk about a pandora’s box.

“It was the most I could do with what I have in my fridge. Seems like I’m going to have to go shopping before Monday.” She returned the pasta to the pot with some butter before scooping in the sauce.

Mulder’s hand swiped too quick for her to bat him away as he went for a taste. “Mulder!”

“Mmm, nice job Scully,” he said as he licked his finger clean, leaning against the counter.

She tried not blush. It was such a small compliment. Scully finished stirring everything together and asked him to get the bowls from the cabinet.

“I have some parmesan. You want any on yours?” she asked, making her way back to the fridge.

“Sure.”

On her way back she swiped some forks from a drawer and shook parmesan on her serving before handing the bottle to Mulder.

He followed her back to the sofa and they settled nicely together into the cushions relaxing their tired bones.

Around a bite of pasta Scully asked, “So is it the last quarter yet?”

Mulder’s eyes widened, “Scully, do you seriously not –“ but then caught the smile on her face as she looked at her fork twirling more noodles. “Ha ha, very funny,” but he smiled too.

“Sorry I couldn’t resist,” she grinned back at him. “Okay but really, how much of this is left?”

The look of offense on Mulder’s face was too much and she broke out into laughter. 

* * *

Not sure if I want to continue this. Had the urge to write about these two. If there’s interest I can see where this goes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The X-Files.

* * *

Monday rolled around much too soon. It was a rainy and gloomy morning as Scully made her way into the Bureau, ducking under an awning to shake off the water from her umbrella before entering. She should have known by now what this kind of weather did not just to Mulder but to any case they were working on. It was like a hospital shift on a full moon.

As they say: should’ve, could’ve, would’ve right?

She opened the door to the office to find Mulder with his glasses on and reading over a file. Hanging her coat and umbrella she greeted him.

“Morning, Mulder,” she said approaching his desk.

“Morning, Scully,” he spared a quick glance and half-smile, “How do you feel about Boston?”

She arched an eyebrow, “Boston? I like it just fine, as much as any other city I’ve been to,” she took a breath preparing for whatever he was about to throw her way, “Why?”

He answered with a question as he often did, “And how to you feel about traditional homes built before the 1920s?”

“They can be quaint and beautiful, but the upkeep I hear can get pretty pricey. _Why_ Mulder?”

“Just one more question: Do you believe in spirits with unfinished business on this earth lingering behind in states that would allow them to interact with the living?”

Scully started to smile, “You mean ghosts? You’re asking me if I believe in ghosts, Spooky?”

Ignoring the jab, Mulder smiled and continued, “There’s been a special request for our services down in Boston to investigate unexplained activity.”

“Oh we’re available for booking now,” she replied sarcastically.

“Apparently someone here at the Bureau has a cousin out in Boston who was bequeathed a home built in 1904. Quite a mansion actually,” he held out a photograph to her, “But there have been rumors in the family that the place is haunted…”

Scully looked at the photo to see a quaint and beautiful home. Tall pointed roof trimmed with white and windows with decorative glass. A stairway led to a porch and front door, flower boxes lining the railing. It was a two-story home. All in all it was like a home you saw on a postcard.

“A haunted house?”

Mulder smiled at her skepticism, “That’s what the rumors say. Cousin Barry would like us to go down there and see if anything is amiss in the home. He wants to be sure it’s not already housing some disgruntled family members before he moves in with the family.”

Scully sighed, “I’m guessing I should get a bag packed for the flight you’ve already booked?”

“See Scully, this is why we work so well together,” he answered happily.

She lightly threw the photo back down his desk and retrieved her coat and umbrella to head back home and pack.

* * *

They arrived in Boston to find the weather very much the same. The flight had been absolute hell for Scully who hated turbulence no matter how many times they flew around this country. Mulder was again behind the wheel with Scully manning the map guiding them from the airport rental building to their destination.

“We’re set to meet Barry at two, so it seems we have some time to stop for lunch after checking in at the motel,” Mulder supplied under the thrum of rain on their windshield.

“Some clam chowder in this weather sounds nice actually,” she replied looking down at the map.

Mulder nodded, “See Scully? Boston is nice.”

Scully looked over at her partner, “I never said it wasn’t. I just think ghost hunting is a little out there even for you, Mulder.”

“Don’t think of it as ghost hunting…more like paranormal investigating.”

Scully snorted, “Sure.”

Mulder had been right, they had made it to the motel by noon and had time to stop for lunch at a restaurant recommended by the front desk clerk. With a belly full of warm chowder Scully found herself in a much more forgiving mood for whatever the afternoon would bring.

The last dregs of soup in her spoon she asked, “Do you know how long of drive it should be from here?”

  
“Shouldn’t be more than half an hour,” Mulder said thoughtfully munching on a cracker, “It’s a bit out of the way. Apparently it’s a more rural area.” He and Scully both glanced at their watches.

Scully said, “We should probably go in about ten minutes. Don’t want to miss any ghost action.”

“If those stories they shared with me are anything to go by you don’t,” he said, “Doors closing on their own? Missing items? Voices?” his eyes shone.

Scully listed onto her fingers, “Wind, forgetfulness, and self-induced by hearing the rumors.”

Mulder shook his head, “I don’t know Scully, but that’s what we’re here to find out.”

“This is going to be just like every other case we’ve had on ghosts Mulder. There’s a simple explanation for whatever it is that’s driving those rumors,” Scully said firmly.

Mulder just smiled at her and shrugged.

“I just want to know when this rain is going to let up,” she looked gloomily to the window.

“Rain got you down, g-woman?”

“Everything just takes twice as long in the rain.”

“Speaking of, I’m gonna hit the john before we hit the road.”

Scully wrinkled her nose, “Mulder…” But followed him to use the restroom as well.

* * *

They pulled up to the house just as the rain was beginning to slow.

“Looks like the gods were listening, Scully,” Mulder said shutting off the engine. Scully smiled in response and exited the car.

They both looked up to the house they had only seen in pictures. It really was something. You could see it’s age in person: cracks here and there, peeling paint along its edges, and an overgrown garden threatening to overtake the walkway leading to it’s entrance. But still, it was beautiful in a nostalgic way.

Scully led the way up the stairs but before they could knock the door opened on its own to reveal a tall man with glasses who looked to be in his late thirties.

“Hello, Agents Fox and Dana?” he asked politely upon taking in their appearance.

Mulder smiled kindly, “Mulder and Scully will do,” he held out a hand to shake, “And yes that’s us.”

Scully shook his hand next, “Barry Fletcher right? This is a beautiful home that you’ve been left.”

Ushering them in to the sitting room he replied, “Yes, yes. If only it was _just_ that.”

“So I take it you believe the rumors about this home, Mr. Fletcher?” Mulder asked taking a seat on the loveseat.

“Just Barry is fine – And uh…yeah I guess you could say that,” he said slowly.

Scully asked, “Could you describe which rumors you believe?”

Barry seemed to be stalling for time as he took off his glasses to clean on his shirt, “Ah yes…,” he cleared his throat, “Well, you see this home belonged to my grandmother. She’s who’s left it to me. I used to come over for the summer to stay with her a few months when I was a child.”

Mulder and Scully nodded.

He continued, “I won’t say I’ve ever seen anything…alarming. But there always used to be the small unexplainable occurrences.”

Mulder sat up straighter, “Occurrences?

“Yes, you’d leave a glass of water on a counter, just step out for a moment and then find it some inches from where you’d left it. Or you’d think you’d hear someone calling your name and yet no one did when you went to ask,” he said staring at a coaster on the coffee table between them.

“Would anyone else experience them?” Mulder asked.

Barry looked between the two, “Oh yes. My grandmother acknowledged them and claimed they were family that had first bought the home. My brothers and sister also say they’ve seen the same things I’ve seen.”

“Anything ever worrying or dangerous happen?”

“Not exactly,” Barry answered, “Nothing ever vicious happened that I can remember hearing about. But definitely the spirits will let you know if they’re unhappy.”

Scully chimed in, “Unhappy? What do you mean?”

“We can never get any tinsel to stay put on the Christmas tree. No matter how many times you put it back on, you’ll find them knocked off and on the floor by the next morning. And there always has to be flowers here on this coffee table. If there isn’t anything else you place here gets thrown off. Things like that.”

Mulder and Scully shared a look before she asked, “And so what are you hoping we can help with?”

Barry sighed, “My wife really loves this home,” he rubbed his hands together, “Apparently it has potential. But I’m worried about moving my family here if it will mean my children being scared of their own home. I’m hoping you two can find out once and for all what’s going on in this home.” He looked at them hopefully.

“Well we can try our best to investigate but unless you have evidence or proof we can analyze I don’t know if we could definitively say what exactly is going on here,” Mulder said.

Barry’s brow furrowed, “I think there may have been some kind of miscommunication. Did Mark not explain everything?”

Scully glanced at Mulder before asking Barry, “What do you mean?”

“Mark led me to believe you two would be staying here to investigate first-hand what’s happening in this home. That’s why I’ve set everything up for you two to stay,” he gestured around to the home.

Not sure how to reply Scully said, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You mean to say Mark told you we would be staying in your home…to investigate…experience the paranormal occurrences happening here?”

Barry replied worriedly, “Yes.”

Scully turned to look at Mulder, ready to say that wasn’t exactly what they had planned for, but the look on his face said all she needed to know.

“How soon did you expect us to start?,” she asked tiredly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The X-Files.

Well, at least the rain had stayed away.

Scully and Mulder were making their way back to their motel to see if they could get any money back on the deposit and to grab their luggage. Mulder had been talkative from the moment the front door had closed behind them. He was spouting details from similar X-Files and articles he had read on ghosts and paranormal activity. Scully had so far learned that there were varying degrees of experiences a person could have with a spirit. And it seemed that the Fletcher ghost was bordering on poltergeist. To which Scully could help but quietly respond to with a “They’re here!” She’d also learned of the various circumstances that could lead to a spirit lingering on after it’s bod had died: murder, divorce, revenge, unfinished business were just to name a few. Mulder was just wrapping up his quick lecture on how best to gather evidence of a haunting (tape recorders, cameras, and baby powder made the list) when they had arrived at the Cat’s Eye Motel.

“Mulder…please tell me we won’t be any longer than the week…” Scully begged.

“Don’t say that Scully,” Mulder rallied, exiting the car with her, “Think of it as a vacation!”

Scully stopped walking to throw a deadpan look Mulder’s way, “Oh yeah. My perfect idea of a vacation: staying at a musty old home that’s possibly haunted during the worst weather of the year so far.”

Mulder laughed shortly, “I thought you said it was quaint and beautiful, Scully,” he followed after her as she began the way to their neighboring rooms.

* * *

“We’re gonna have to make a quick stop at the store before we get to the house,” Mulder announced as they buckled up in the car. On the way to the house. Again.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Scully nodded, looking out of the window, “We’re going to need to stock up on some food and I’ll need a couple of more item’s if we’re here until next Saturday.”

“Oh…,” he replied sounding surprised, “Oh yeah that too…But I guess I was thinking more along the lines of the supplies we’ll need for our ghost-hunting.”

Scully covered her eyes with her hand in exasperation, “Oh my god, Mulder.”

By the time they reached the grocery store the rain had started up again.

“An umbrella, Scully? Really?,” Mulder teased, “It only just started drizzling.”

She quipped, “Not everyone is so effortlessly put together as you.”

“You’re making me blush,” he replied smirking.

They walked towards the entrance of the market. Mulder stopped at the doors, “Cart or basket, you think?”

“Uh…,” Scully took a second to think, “I’m going to vote for the cart. Knowing you, we’ll probably leave with half the store’s inventory of baby powder,” she grinned.

“Hey!” he said, almost pouting, but grabbed a cart and followed her lead.

She sighed, “Okay how about we start with what we need for work and then circle back around for our personal stuff?” She looked around the store, mapping the layout.

“Yeah, sure,” Mulder said easily, “I am your pack mule. You lead, I follow,” he smiled innocently.

She rolled her eyes in response, “Well then, onward pack mule, to your baby powder.”

His smiled twisted into a playful scowl, “Never gonna let that go are you, Scully?”

Walking ahead of him towards the baby aisle she looked back over her shoulder to grin at him, “Nope.”

Inspecting a bottle of baby powder in each hand, she asked, “Does the brand matter to ghosts?”

He replied distractedly behind her, “No, they’re not very particular.”

“Then I say we get this one,” she replaced a bottle to grab another of the chosen brand, “They’re buy one, get one. And I’d rather not have Skinner breathing down my neck on our expense report.”

She turned to place the bottles in the cart to find him holding up something to her, “Do babies really need this?” he asked curiously. She looked more closely to see it was one of those suction pipettes for babies’ noses. He continued, “Are baby boogers really that prevalent?”

Scully bit her lip to stop from laughing, “I can’t say I know from first-hand experience but I imagine that’s the only way to clean babies nose.”

“Weird,” he said simply, “And gross.” Then he returned the item to the shelf before turning back to her, “Camera’s next?”

She nodded and led the way to the disposable camera section. If they had known they would so deep into investigating they would have brought a larger tool kit with bureau-loaned camera. But neither of them had seen the case turning such a hands-on direction. They threw a couple into the cart before grabbing some other small supplies Mulder said they needed.

“Okay, do you want to split up and get our own stuff and meet back front?” Scully asked.

“Why,” he said mock-suspiciously, “What are you trying to hide Scully? Is there some dark secret?”

She shot him a look.

He chuckled, “I don’t mind just doing the rest together, I don’t have a lot to grab. Unless you do want some privacy?” he asked more seriously.

Shaking her head, “No, after all we’ve been through I doubt there’s anything left to hide.”

She didn’t catch the look of honest surprise Mulder cast at her as she made her way to the personal care aisle. He quickly shook it off and smiled, following behind like a loyal puppy.

They meandered through the shelves, each taking time to find and grab some of the items they hadn’t thought they’d need. Into the cart he placed a razor and some shaving cream, moisturizer, and floss.

“Instead of the two of us buying floss, you okay with sharing?” she asked.

Mulder shrugged, “Works for me.”

Minus the floss, she added in much the same but also some cotton pads and make-up remover.

“Moisturizer?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“This baby soft skin may seem natural but beauty takes work,” Mulder said, fluttering his eyes for show.

Next up they ventured for food and snacks. They argued over the amount of snack they needed.

Mulder: We’re going to need snacks for our all night stake outs!

Scully: Mulder I don’t think anyone needs _this_ many snacks. Ever.

But managed a compromise with little blood spilled. Food was easy as they found themselves surprisingly on the same page about simple cooking and meals.

“Ready?” he asked looking down at their cart.

She hummed, “I think so. This should definitely hold us until Thursday. I’d rather come back than throw away food.”

He nodded and pushed the cart toward the registers. It was prime time for shopping as most people were leaving work and the lines were long. Mothers with their children hanging off their carts and begging her to buy them something. Tired-looking men and women holding bottles of wine, packs of beer, and other alcohol. Teenagers and youths laughing over something in a magazine, bags of chips and bottles of soda piled on the conveyor belt.

They joined the end of one long line and Scully soon found herself alone. She looked up to see Mulder heading towards the magazine rack. He shortly returned with the most recent issue of _Believer’s Magazine_ , flipping through it’s pages.

“Hey look at this Scully,” he held the magazine towards her, “One-eyed dog.”

She glanced at the story and picture, “Pretty cute actually. Does it have a name?”

“Goliath,” he smiled.

She snorted, “Clever.”

He continued his flipping and sharing which led to a debate on whether or not Bigfoot could or did exist. They had just begun to argue on them acceptability of video evidence when the cashier interrupted them.

“Paper or plastic?”

Without missing a beat in their conversation they both replied, “Paper.” And then Mulder began to passionately list dates of verified sightings that had been reported in the last month’s issue of _Believer’s Magazine_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The X-Files.

The rain had come back full force by the time they were exiting the grocery store. They both stopped under the extended roofing that protected them from the rain to look at their car parked a good distance away. People rushed by them in and out of the store, holding hoods of jackets, umbrellas, and newspapers over their heads.

Mulder turned to Scully, “I don’t mind grabbing the car and bringing it around. Just need to borrow the umbrella.”

Scully couldn’t help but tease, “Or we can just walk to the car…I mean I do have my umbrella and you claimed it was excessive to bring one when it’s only drizzling…” she said airily.

“We both know the better plan is me grabbing the car,” he coaxed.

Holding out the umbrella to him she said, “ I would just like the record to show that I was right.”

He opened the umbrella and smiled, “Of course! I’d be lost without you, Scully!” And he began to lightly jog towards their car.

They made quick work of packing their purchases into the trunk of the car, sighing as they shut the doors of the car shut behind them.

Shifting the gear to head out he joked, “Teamwork makes the dream work.”

She laughed, checking herself in the small mirror.

* * *

Since the rain still continued to pour when they arrived at the Fletcher home they loaded all the bags they could carry to make only one trip from their car in the driveway to the front door. Just as last time Barry opened the door before they could knock. Scully could only assume he was anxious to leave the home and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

They politely shook off water from their shoes on the front mat and took them off as they entered the house. The home may be old but it lacked nothing in warmth against the cold outside. Scully was eager to change out of her wet work clothes into something more casual. She could feel the humidity curling her hair around the base of her neck in the warmer temperature.

Barry clapped his hands together, “Well, seems like you’re all set,” held out a set of keys to them, “Here are the keys. Any lock you find in this home can be opened by a key on this ring. I’ve cleared out two bedrooms upstairs for the two of you and the bathroom,” he looked between the two, “You’ll have to share, I hope that’s okay?”

“No problem,” Mulder replied good-naturedly.

Barry nodded and began making his way to the door, “I’ve left my phone number and address on the kitchen table along with any tips on little quirks in the house. Just in case I missed anything,” he placed a hand on the doorknob, “I’ve also let the neighbors know that I have some friends staying for a while. I, uh, didn’t want to spook them with reasons so if you two could just try and, uh, stick to that story?” he laughed nervously.

Scully raised an eyebrow, “We can do that…” and Mulder nodded in agreement.

“Great!” he said, “Great…so uh…call me if you need me!” and he paused for a second as if expecting them to object his leaving and then shook their hands and left.

Mulder and Scully turned to each other.

“Why do I get the feeling he was running out of here?” he asked.

“I think because he was.”

* * *

The last of the grocery bags placed on the table, they grabbed their luggage to head upstairs. Scully led the way up the staircase leaving from the hallway between the kitchen and living room, flicking on the lights and she went along.

The stairs brought them to a small landing that opened to a left and right hallway. Scully took the right while Mulder went left.

To the right she found a bathroom at the end of the hallway between two bedrooms facing across from each other. It seemed these were the two rooms Barry had cleaned out for them. The lights had been on in both and the comforters seemed new with folded towels placed on them along with some extra blankets.

Mulder found an office with a large oak desk and a bay window behind it looking out into the backyard. Opposite it was a bedroom that seemed to be long unused, seeming dusty and smelling like mothballs. The end of the hallway on his side was yet another bedroom, this one with a smaller double bed but just as untouched and dusty as the other.

He made his way back to Scully to find her in one of the bedrooms unpacking her bag. Sparing a quick glance to the bathroom they would share he walked across to what he assumed would be his room. Inside he found a queen bed much like he had seen Scully’s, even the folded towels.

He called out to the hallway, “This is better than any motel I’ve ever been in.”

Scully called back, “I think almost anything is better than any motel we’ve ever stayed in.”

He smiled and began unpacking his own items, searching for something a lot more comfortable than his suit and tie. Closing the door to his room he changed into a set of sweatpants and white shirt, deciding to leave the hoodie since the house was well enough heated to not need it.

He opened the door to his room at the same time Scully did across from him. Taking her in he found her a similar get-up except she added a pullover sweater.

“Bathroom?” he asked, pointing to the room.

She smiled, “Yeah, just wanted to place my stuff in there,” gesturing to her arms with various products. Some which he recognized as the purchases she made at the store just a little while ago.

“After you,” he extended his arm. He took his time grabbing his own toiletries and when he heard her exiting he took his turn.

The bathroom had a mirror that also served as a medicine cabinet it seemed. He opened it to find she had placed all her items on one shelf. Neatly organized from tallest to shortest she had placed her deodorants, lotions, and other small items on the bottom-most shelf.

He smiled softly, letting himself wonder for a moment what this would be like to see every day. Placing his own items on the top shelf, he matched the pattern of his partner’s just for the hell of it. Soon enough he made his way back downstairs to join Scully, taking note of the stairs’ creaking and croaking.

“Those stairs would have been terrible for sneaking out as a teenager,” he heard he say from the kitchen. He found her unpacking the groceries and placing items in categorized spaces.

“Rebel Scully,” he shook his head, “What I would give…”

She smiled at him as she placed the small pint of milk in the fridge, “Working with you, I think you’ve seen that side more than once.”

“Are you saying I’m a bad influence?” he joked, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.

“I’m sure Skinner thinks so,” she said carrying over their purchases for the investigation to him at the table. She sighed dramatically, “I used to be a model FBI agent.”

Mulder barked a laugh, “And then they placed you with ol’ Spooky and the rest was history?”

She grinned at him, taking a moment to think. A hand on her hip she replied, “Yeah, and then I realized there was more out their than just following the rules.”

Mulder and Scully shared a smile, each sure that the other was thinking of the number of shenanigans they’d been up to since they had started working together.

He asked after a beat, “And that’s a good thing I hope?”

Skirting around the question, she continued to smile and asked in return, “Fishing for compliments, Mulder?”

“Hey, it was worth a shot,” he shrugged, “Hungry, Scully? I think it’s my turn to make dinner.”

Scully raised her eyebrows, “Mulder cooking? This I gotta see.”

“Prepare to be amazed,” he waggled his eyebrows, “Sandwiches a la Mulder are to die for.”

She traded places with him to take a seat at the table, placing her chin in her hand she said, “Let’s see what you got.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files.

Later that night as she lay in bed, Scully reflected on the day and how yet another investigation had turned into something more. She looked up at the ceiling, just barely lit by the moonlight entering through the cracks in the curtain. Spending time with Mulder was not anything new for her. Over the years they had been on countless trips together. They’d done everything from hide out in small and inconvenient places, find their way home after becoming stranded, stayed at dingy motels for nights with only each other’s friendship. By now she knew most of his quirks and pet-peeves. She knew how he liked his coffee and that he preferred a hot meal over a quick snack. He always packed just enough clothes for their trips, never packing for an emergency. Never feel bad barging in or calling him in the middle of the night: he’d nine out of ten times still be awake.

And yet there was a different feeling for this case. She didn’t know if it was that they were staying together in a home. Or maybe it was the simplicity of the case. Whatever it was she had caught herself noticing. Noticing _things._ Much too much for her liking.

While he stood at the kitchen counter prepping their sandwiches and probing into her rebellious youth, she’d noticed how differently he stood when he was relaxed. He leaned a hip into the counter and gracefully moved back and forth between ingredients. She’d felt her face heat up when she thought he’d caught her staring.

As they were getting ready for bed she noticed that one of the scents she so often associated with him was the toothpaste he’d brushed with as she flossed next to him in the hallway. She had never really considered that that particular scent of spearmint reminded her of him. Of meeting in the early morning hours on a new tip. Or of maddening mornings with him in the office trying to get him to do paperwork with less unexplainable notes.

And she noticed that he made the same face of concentration picking out stuff from the store shelves as he did when looking over an X File. The same thoughtful expression on his face, biting his lip as he was obviously considering something.

It was throwing her off.

Usually investigations were so much more black and white between when they had some downtime and when they were working. But now it felt casual. It reminded her of the dinner they had had just this past weekend. That had been…so natural.

Turning over in bed, she shut her eyes and tried not to think too much on it. She was sure Mulder hadn’t even noticed anything anyways.

* * *

“Mulder, old boy, you better shape up,” Mulder muttered to himself as he sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped. He had just heard the bed in the next room lightly creak as he assumed Scully settled in for bed.

From the moment he had met her he had known it would be a wild ride. Of course at the start he had assumed that meant trouble for him and his hope of finding out the truth being hidden by the government. Then over time he’d found out how wrong he was about that. She’d questioned every move he made and pointed to more obvious answers for the cases they’d worked on. It was frustrating.

It was also invigorating. He’d not known that feeling in he didn’t know how long. Being able to trust someone’s opinion to be based in honesty and integrity, not just for their own gain, meant that he had someone with whom to share his thoughts and conclusions without hesitation.

Lately he’d found his list of things Scully did that made him feel invigorated longer and longer. Not to say she didn’t find her frustrating anymore – she still was one of the few that could get him to want to pull his hair out.

However, he always came back to feeling more amazed by her.

He was human, he wasn’t blind to her. She was beautiful, intelligent, fierce, protective, and loyal.

But he had to get his shit together. Scully wasn’t just another woman who he could ask out and get to know and see where it goes. He dreaded ruining the friendship they had built these years together. Their partnership was what now most often kept him going and staying positive. He’d never forgive himself if it was ruined because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

He turned out the light in his room, turning in for the night.

As their time together went one, however, it was harder and harder to deny that his feelings for her were not simply physical.

He sighed and rolled onto his back, cursing whoever furnished this room for not adding a television.

* * *

The following morning Scully woke to realize her alarm was ringing for her to wake. Throwing an arm to the bedside table she sleepily wondered the brand of the mattress that had been surprisingly good to her.

Rubbing the sleep from her face she glanced at the clock to see her alarm hadn’t been going off that long. She should really get up and get to the shower to leave enough time for Mulder to get ready. They had agreed to start at eight today and she wanted time for some coffee and breakfast.

Sliding out of bed, she gathered some clothes and made her way to the bathroom. Exiting her room she noticed the door to Mulder’s bedroom was still closed and she assumed he was still in bed.

As she brushed her teeth she turned the shower on and sent out a prayer that the house had hot water.

* * *

It was raining again.

Wait no.

That’s the shower.

Slowly entering into consciousness, Mulder discerned the sound of the shower next door and the echo of shampoo bottles being opened and closed. Taking a moment to listen, he closed his eyes, trying to catch any other sounds from the morning. Outside his window he could hear the birds calling to each other meaning the sun was out. He could hear the pipes and boiler groaning as they worked to bring hot water to the shower.

He briskly drew back the covers and rose, stretching wide before going to open the curtains on the window. His room looked out onto the backyard which had a couple of trees, mostly barren in preparation for winter. There was also a small and homely brick path that seemed to lead from the back door out to a bit of woods that seemed to be the property line. And old sandbox stood unused among other tools and gardening artifacts left behind.

Realizing he probably had a moment before Scully was done in the bathroom he decided it best to use his morning to exercise. Not wanting to get his only set of pajamas sweaty he stripped down to his boxers and began his routine.

* * *

Scully changed quickly, not wanting to hog the bathroom. She cracked the door open as she combed through her hair, hoping to let some of the steam out before his turn. Deciding it better to just grab what was left in her morning routine and finish in her bedroom she grabbed some bottles and jars and made her way back to her room. Dumping them on her bed she stood for a moment to see if she could hear if Mulder had heard her leave the bathroom so he could have his turn.

She couldn’t hear much so she drew nearer to his door. It sounded like he was… breathing heavily? She hoped it wasn’t a nightmare…

“Mulder?” she knocked against the door.

“Yeah,” he called back from within.

Taking that as a sign to enter she opened the door to find a particularly sweaty and underdressed Mulder looking up at her from the floor.

“Oh,” was all that she managed to say, feeling her face heat up.

“Good morning, Scully,” he said smiling in a way that she knew that he knew that she was flustered.

Turned her back to him she explained, “Mulder, I thought you meant I could come in.

“I have no problem with you coming in,” she heard his reply.

“Well the bathroom’s all yours,” she said trying to keep her voice even, “I’m going to finish getting ready in my room. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He grinned at her as she left towards her bedroom, “Alright, thanks.”

Before she closed the door to her room, she looked at him, “Oh and Mulder?”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“You might want to hurry up, it’s already seven,” and then closed the door.

Still grinning, Mulder gathered his clothes and made quick work of getting ready.

They had ghosts to hunt.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files.

Mulder finished knotting his tie as he made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen he saw Scully sitting at the table with a plate of toast and a mug of coffee. She looked up at the sound of him entering.

“Morning Mulder,” she greeted, sipping her coffee. She had also dressed for the work day as they usually did on a case.

He was grateful to see she had made a pot of coffee enough for them both. He poured a cup and joined her at the table. Taking a sip, he took a moment to look around the kitchen as last night they had only spent moments there putting away the groceries.

It had pine cabinets, tiled counters, and linoleum floors. Simple and bright, it reminded him of a generic kitchen you would catch on a sitcom. Not that he was complaining, he preferred to stay somewhere that wouldn’t give him a headache just staring at the color scheme. There weren’t many photos on the walls, mostly paintings of landscapes and flowers with just a couple of old photos that seemed to be of the grandmother who originally owned the home.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked Scully, swiping a torn piece of toast from in front of her.

“Hey!” she complained pursing her lips, “There’s bread and butter on the counter, Mulder.”

Smiling boyishly as he chewed on the stolen food he stood and went to prepare his own food.

Answering his question, she continued, “It was fine. No worse than any motel we’ve stayed at in the past,” she raised the mug to her mouth, “I might even say better given that I didn’t have to deal with noisy guests at two in the morning.”

Mulder nodded, buttering his slices of toast, “Same here. If last night was anything to go by, we may not have as restless a spirit as poor Barry thinks.”

“I think you mean there may not be any spirit at all,” she replied, sounding amused.

Shaking the butter knife at her, he said, “Don’t speak too soon, Scully. He said that the spirits are only active when they are upset. I doubt us sleeping in their beds would cause any harm.”

She snorted but said nothing else.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later and the agents were in the living room unpacking their ghost hunting supplies. Mulder had laid out the various items on the coffee table between them. In all they had two bottles of baby powder, three disposable cameras, a roll of tape, their tape recorders, and some string.

“All those hours of training have really prepared me for this,” Scully said sarcastically, eyeing the baby powder.

“Ye of little faith,” he said, placing the other extra grocery bags in one bag.

“So what’s the plan here?”

“We do nothing,” he said simply.

Scully’s eyes widened a fraction, “Nothing? Mulder, what do you mean the plan is do nothing?”

Smiling slightly he said, “Yeah Scully. We need to establish a baseline of activity while we’re in the home. Then once we do that we can set up some of this stuff and see there are patterns or explanations for any phenomena.”

“A baseline of activity?”

“In order to know what’s _not_ normal in this house, we first need to understand what _is_ normal,” he explained, “Which are the sounds of the house settling, the pipes working. The wind moving a branch against a window.”

Though she still thought this was all still for nothing, she couldn’t deny is logic made sense. “Okay,” she nodded slowly, “We do nothing.”

He stood from his seat walking to the television to grab the remote resting on it before returning to take a seat next to her on the couch. He smiled her way briefly before settling in and turning it on.

She watched the screen for a second before she snorted, “Why do I get the feeling there’s a game on today?”

In mock offense he raised a hand to his chest and sent a hurt look her way, “Scully, why I would never ditch a ghost hunt for a game.”

They stared at each other, waiting for the other to give. She didn’t budge.

“Besides there isn’t a game on,” he continued, losing their starting contest to turn back to the television.

Shaking her head she stood and went upstairs to grab her book. She returned to find him flipping through the channels trying to find something on daytime television worth watching. Sitting against the armrest on her side she slipped off her shoes to curl up on the couch and read.

* * *

Somehow she had fallen asleep.

She didn’t exactly know at what point her reading had turned into a nap but she was brought into consciousness slowly remembering where she was. Scully could lifted her head from where she had wedged in between the arm and back of the couch to see the window behind them being hit with rain. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she looked at her partner, smiling at some rerun that was playing.

As if he could sense her eyes on him he turned to her, “Good morning again, sleepyhead,” he joked.

Smiling she was slightly embarrassed, “Sorry, I don’t know what happened,” she pushed herself into a sitting position, stretching. “How long was I out?”

“Not too long,” he replied still looking at her, “About a half hour.”

Clearing her throat awkwardly, “Anything spooky happen while I was out?”

Shaking his head, “No, nothing notable other than the rain starting up again and the discovery of a leak,” he nodded over to a small pot he had placed on the threshold between the foyer and the living room that was slowly collecting rain water as it dripped from the ceiling.

Amused she replied, eyes still on the pot, “Wow, you’re a regular handyman.”

“My dad did manage to teach me a few things before our relationship was shot to hell,” Mulder smirked.

“Oh yeah?” she was intrigued.

“Yeah, he was actually pretty good at fixing things. I would spend my weekends following him around the house fixing up things…You know, broken hinges, leaky roof, things like that.”

“You know, I’m not actually surprised to hear that…”

“No?”

She smiled at him, “Yeah, you have a bit of MacGyver in you.”

“Is that a compliment I hear?”

She glanced down at the book in her lap, “You could definitely take it that way.”

He didn’t reply but continued smiling at her though he redirected his attention at the television.

Sighing she asked, “Are we going to sit here all day?”

Mulder spared her a glance, ”No.”

She waited for him to continue but as he often did, he waited for _her_ to ask him what he meant. At this point in their partnership she imagined he enjoyed doing that to irk her. The jerk.

“No?”

“As much as I know you’d love to sit around all day, we should really get a look around this house.”

“Oh so have we established a baseline of activity?”

“No, of course not, we need more time,” he turned off the TV and stood to walk towards the stairs.

Scully sent a flat look his way before following him “Of course…”

They started in the other bedroom that was down the hall. Looking in there it was evident that Barry had indeed taking time to prepare for their stay. The room was particularly musty giving the impression it hadn’t been inhabited in many years. The fabric-covered furniture had been covered with drop clothes to protect against aging. Scully approached the window and confirmed her suspicions upon finding a clear layer of dust on the windowsill.

“Hey Scully check this out.”

She turned to find him crouched in front of the closet. It seemed he had located an old luggage chest underneath the collection of moth-eaten clothes. She crouched next to him to see what information it might hold.

“Makes you feel a bit like the Harty Boys huh?”

“I’d say Nancy Drew.”

He lifted the lip of the chest to reveal only more boxes held within. Taking them out he passed them to Scully one by one. There were six boxes in total, some of them old gift boxes reused for storage, others were tins from old knickknacks.

Mulder chose one at random and settled in on the floor, opening it to find out what secrets it may hold. Scully, taking his lead did the same across from him on the other side of the stack of boxes.

Rifling through she found a box full of old pictures, separate stacks from throughout the years. Some looking to be decades old with frayed edges and black and white images. It appeared it was a collection of family photos from since they had first lived in the home, all the way to what she could identify as the 80s with the help of tell-tale hairstyles. Another box appeared to contain old mementos. She was able to find old baby teeth kept in small cloth purses. Along with broaches, what seemed to be ticket stubs, and other bits and bobs. Mulder uncovered the locations of important documents and forms about the home and it’s past inhabitants. Scully opened her last box to find beautiful jewelry: necklaces, earring, rings, you name it. She was surprised it had been able to remain here untouched for so many years.

The last box was an old antique with a lock. Mulder tried to open it but it was, as they thought, locked.

He smiled up at Scully, “Figures.”

“It _would_ defeat the purpose if they had left it unlocked.”

“I won’t say you’re wrong. But I wish you were wrong, finding the key is going to take a while.”

“We have plenty of time since we have to establish a baseline right?” she smirked.

He sighed and reach over to grab the box of mementos and place it between them, taking out each item in hopes of finding the key. Scully joined in, still smiling at their luck and Mulder’s pout.

They sat in silence for a couple of moments as they filtered through the items, getting lost in their curiosity as they imagined what stories they held.

Scully held up a box of matches that according to the lettering was from a restaurant in New York.

“What would you leave behind?”

“You mean what would I leave in a chest in my closet for strangers to find long after I’d died?”

She scoffed, “Sure.”

“I don’t know…”

She waited for him to think over his reply.

“Is this a natural death at an old age? Or was it sudden and they’ll just find things as I left them? Because if I have the choice I definitely have some tapes and reading material to get rid of…”

“Okay, it’s old age and you can curate your chest.”

“Then I’m sure there’d be some X Files in there…probably some photographic proof of the existence of extraterrestrials. A couple Lone Gunmen’s…”

She raised a Scully brow.

“ _And_ I’d put some of my collectable baseball cards and balls from my favorite games,” he then continued on in a lower tone, “Photos of Samantha and my family from before…”

Scully reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder. He continued on, “I bet I could squeeze in some of the stuff I keep on my desk just as memories.”

“I wonder if it would really give a sense of who you were without those tapes.”

He chose not to comment, “What would you leave in yours?”

“Well…”

“Maybe a pair of scrubs?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

“Just asking.”

“I’d leave some of my favorite books. _Moby Dick_ no doubt. And looking at what’s left here, I’d probably put some of the jewelry I’ve collected and inherited.”

Mulder glanced at the cross necklace she always wore, nodding.

“My thesis and other academic work too…and pictures obviously…of everyone.”

Teasing, “Would I be included?”

“If we have pictures of us, sure.”

“You got a point, we don’t take many of those do we?”

“No, no we don’t. But I would say that’s expected. Usually our time together doesn’t leave much room for taking feel-good pictures.”

He laughed lightly, “You mean you don’t wish we had more recorded memories from all of our cases?”

“I think most of them I’m happy to forget,” she shook her head.

“How about we stop here and make some lunch? I’m getting hungry.”

“It is getting close to noon. And I don’t think we’ll find that key any time soon.”

They both looked at the still half-full box they had been searching through.

“I just hope it’s in there. Come on Scully, let’s see what we can whip up.”

He stood first and held out a hand to help her up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the X Files

“Alright Scully, prepare to be amazed,” Mulder bragged as he gently pushed her into a seat at the kitchen table.

“So I can add chef to the handyman on your list of hidden skills?”

“There’s a lot of hidden skills you don’t know about that I’ve got on my resume,” he waggled his eyebrows jokingly, heading to the fridge and pulling out ingredients.

Scully snorted, “I’ve known you for six years Mulder. I don’t think there’s much left about you that I don’t know.”

He waved a sauce pan at her, “Ah but that’s the secret to keeping the magic alive. You have to keep some things your sleeve.” He moved around the stove, opening this and that. Soon she heard the sizzle and smelled something good.

“Grilled cheese Mulder?”

“ _And_ tomato soup,” he brandish a can.

“Just like grandma made.”

“Now you get it. Nothing better on a rainy day.”

She hummed, “All that’s missing is some hot chocolate.”

“And some marshmallows,” he alternated between stirring the soup and flipping the sandwiches. “Too bad we didn’t buy any at the store.”

She smiled in response and continued to watch him work. The sound of the rain was soft background noise to the sounds of cooking coming from the stove. He had a small smile on his face as he watched the soup bubble and the sandwiches brown. It was strange to see him in his work clothes doing something so domestic. Mulder had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, causing her to zero in on his forearms. There wasn’t usually a lot of time to stop and admire him on a case. They were more than likely spending their time running for their lives.

But admire him she could.

He was tall, lean, and broad shouldered. It was in the most random moments that she would be reminded of his stature. She usually didn’t notice so much anymore. Mulder had always spoke to her as an equal and with the same respect he showed anyone else – usually more. But there would be times when they would be discussing something and she would look up and notice just how he towered over her. When he would lean on her for comfort and his weight rested against her. Or when he would envelope her in a hug and she felt lost within the confines of his arms.

She doubted he ever noticed those moments where she had to gather herself and refocus. Scully took pride in her ability to compartmentalize and approach without the distraction of sentiments. At first with Mulder that had been easy. His obsessive and brash nature had greatly outweighed any initial attraction, physical or otherwise. Now with six years together she found it a lot harder to resist the feelings that she had been developing. He was as obsessive and brash as ever, but she had also found him to be loyal, brave, warm, and, honestly, funny.

“Bon appetit, Scully,” he placed the food in front of her: a bowl of tomato soup and a fresh grilled cheese sandwich.

“Looks great, my compliments to the chef,” she smiled and picked up her spoon, happy to have something else to distract her.

He smiled in response and sat down across from her with his own meal. They ate in silence for a moment, just the clinking of their spoons against the bowl.

“You know…you were right.”

“About what?”

“Nothing better on a rainy day.”

“Now you’re getting it, Scully.”

She picked up her sandwich, “So what next?”

He drank the last of his soup straight from the bowl and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Well, I was hoping the rain would let up a bit more so we could check out the backyard,” they both looked to the window where rain continued to fall lightly, “You pack any galoshes?”

* * *

After finishing their lunch and washing up their plates, they bundled up and ventured to the backyard.

Mulder held the back screen door open for Scully.

Taking the few steps off the back stoop she commented, “I can definitely see how someone might be tricked into seeing things with this kind of setting.”

Mulder followed her out to the unfenced backyard overtaken by tall grass and weeds. An abandoned iron table with chairs sat off to the right of the stoop, rusting and peeling its paint from the years. A myriad of old toys littered the yard, cutting across a stone path that led from the yard to the woods a good distance behind the house. The stones were slightly overgrown with moss and stained from the sun.

Grinning he tipped one of the chairs forward to run the water off the seat, “It does lend itself to a ghost story doesn’t it?”

Scully didn’t reply with anything more than a smirk and walked towards a small toolshed across the yard from the table. Mulder sloshing boots caught up with her as she opened its doors.

Cobwebs from spiders no doubt hiding from the rain crisscrossed the shed, with garden tools for their only company.

“I don’t think there’s anything living in here, spirit or otherwise,” she spoke to him over the shoulder. 

He dug out a flashlight from his coat just to be sure, shining a light on corners and behind wagons.

“Nothing but maybe some rats and these spiders.”

She closed the doors to the shed and looked back out to the yard.

“Well if there’s anyone causing the issues in the house, the only place they would be able to hide is in the wood,” she said, looking at the line of trees, “It’s so open out here.

Mulder walked down the stone path without saying anything more. She started to follow behind hoping to God that he didn’t plan on taking them out too far.

“What kinds of trees are these, Scully?” he asked, grazing a hand on a trunk as they walked past. When he turned to her for an answer she simply raised an eyebrow.

“Do I look like an encyclopedia to you?”

Smiling he said, “I think for my safety that’s best left unanswered.”

She fought the grin, “You’re in luck because I do actually know these trees. They’re grey birch.”

Mulder nodded, “They don’t provide much cover do they?”

She looked around to the skinny mottled grey trees, empty space between each one.

“Not unless it’s dark out,” she replied, “Or you’re a mouse.”

“Let’s go a little farther out just to be sure,” he said.

They continued their trek for a few more yards, reaching a small creek about 5 feet wide and a couple feet deep. There was no sign of its beginning or end as it cut a path in front of them.

“Come on, Scully,” Mulder rallied, looking around for a good spot to hop across.

She raised both eyebrows this time, “You can’t be serious, Mulder.”

He turned around to her, innocently, “What do you mean?”

“There’s absolutely no good reason for us to try and get over this creek. When it’s _raining_.”

Raising a finger he said, “Ah, that’s where I disagree Scully,” he continued to look around, spotting something a few feet to their left, “This would be exactly where someone who’s trying to hide something,” he found a spot with a rock in the middle which he used to hop off from to the other side, “that they don’t want found,” he did a dramatic pose as he stuck his landing.

“Yes that is the definition of hiding something…” she deadpanned. With a little bit of whine to her voice, “Mulder look, can’t we just try and come back a day it’s not raining? I’m sure it’s not as wide then, it will be easier to get across.”

“Scared of a little water, G-Woman?” he teased standing on the bank waiting for her.

Scowling, she approached the edge of the bank on her side. She held out her arms for balance as she hopped to the rock he had used. Biting his lip to hide a smile he extended a helping hand to her. Ignoring him she hopped gracefully to the opposite bank and began walking off ahead of him.

About five minutes into walking she spoke, “Still think someone is hiding something?”

He ignored her and walked ahead.

“Now can we go -?” she began asking but stopped once they came upon a small clearing.

“Still think someone isn’t hiding something?” he asked smugly.

They approached a tree with what seemed to be a wooden and metal mailbox attached to it. It appeared to have seen many seasons as the nails were rusted over and the wood eaten away at here and there. Mulder lifted the metal flap to reveal a slot for letters to go through.

They shared a look and then went back to investigating the box. A brass lock sealed the slot to the wooden body of the mailbox. The front of it bore an engraving of a flower surrounded by a circle of vines.

Mulder tugged on the lock, thinking that maybe time had compromised the structure, but to no avail. Grabbing the flashlight again, he attempted to look into the box from the small slot.

“Anything?” Scully asked, too short to see into the box herself.

He sighed, “Can’t tell, it’s too narrow to get a good look inside. And this lock won’t budge without some tools to break it.”

Frowning at the mailbox, she replied, “Well it may have nothing to do with our case. Could be something someone put out here for fun.”

“Yeah,” he responded, but in a way she knew that the wheels in his braining were turning furiously. “Let’s head back. You’re right, any farther out is unlikely to have anything.”

“We should hit city hall next,” she suggested as they made their way back, “It would help to get the history on the house and identify the names from those papers we found.”

Mulder nodded hopping across the creek and once again offering a hand to his partner. Rolling her eyes she took the help thinking it best not to press her luck twice in one day.

Changing out of their outdoor footwear into shoes more suitable for office work, they jotted down the names they would be looking for and headed off to city hall.

* * *

“Check this out Scully,” Mulder waved her over to the table he occupied behind her post on the newspaper reel.

She wandered over to find him bent over a page of what seemed to be house deed records from .

“Samuel Robbins,” she read. Further scanning the page she put together that he had been transferred ownership of the home in 1904, married to a Margaret Scott that same year, and that ownership had been handed down through the family after his passing.

“When I went to trace the deed, it comes all the down to Barry,” he explained, waving a hand at a stack of papers next to him, “So we have our family and maybe some hint as to who’s been living rent free all these years.”

“Samuel?”

He raised his eyebrows the way he did when he started to get excited over a case, “Margaret,” he replied.

Before she could relay any further skepticism he continued, “I went digging a little further on them both. It seems she had lived past Samuel, taking care of the house when their children were both still young. According to her death certificate she died from pneumonia at the age of 65 in 1950. _In their home_.”

Scully stared at him for a moment before asking, “So what? You’re saying she’s haunting the house because she died in it?”

He quirked an eyebrow in reply.

“Mulder,” she argued, “If every home who had someone die in it was haunted I think there’d be a lot more proof at the validity of that theory! There’d be a haunted house in every neighborhood!”

Not looking at all discouraged he countered, “Which is exactly why we need to look into dear old Marge’s life and find out what could have caused her soul to linger in that house long after her death,” he smiled, “Time to do some interviewing and look through the papers we found in that closet.”

He stood from the table grabbing a couple of the books to return to the front. Scully knew him well enough to assume she was left to pick up the rest and meet him at the car for whatever twist this was about to take next.

She just hoped they’d have some time for dinner tonight and that there would be no needing to save Mulder’s ass – from spirits or otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’ve been gone a while. To be honest when I started this I had been watching the middle of X-Files seasons. I’ve seen the show before so this was a re-watch. But I had forgotten how dark the later seasons get and it was hard to write this story which I wanted to be more light-hearted and obviously non-canon/au since I won’t have them waiting another three years or whatever to admit they love each other. 
> 
> I do hope to finish this. Thank you everyone for reviews of encouragement – it helps to know there is love for this story :)


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